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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23708503">carve your heart out, stanley barber</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/beigetea/pseuds/beigetea'>beigetea</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>I Am Not Okay with This (TV 2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Anorexia, Body Image, Bulimia, Child Abuse, DEFINITELY not projecting hahahaha, Eating Disorders, Emotions, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, also unrequited love, stanley barber has an eating disorder, there isnt enough stan angst and it pisses me off, this is sad b prepared</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 20:27:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,770</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23708503</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/beigetea/pseuds/beigetea</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>there are nights stan lies in bed, his stomach singing him to sleep, a lullaby he's all too familiar with. those nights are a majority.<br/>stan's in pain. a lot of it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dina &amp; Sydney Novak, Dina/Sydney Novak, Stanley Barber &amp; Sydney Novak, Stanley Barber/Sydney Novak</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>87</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. a painful intro to a painful fic</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>trigger!!!!!!! warning!!!!!!! im gonna b projecting a lot on this piece :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eight years.</p>
<p>	That’s how long Stanley Barber has been struggling with an eating disorder.</p>
<p>	It started when his mother left, and his dad got bad. The sudden change in demeanor took a toll on Stan. His father became angry, abusive. He didn’t understand why his father couldn’t love him anymore. He couldn’t understand why his mother chose to leave him.</p>
<p>	He couldn’t understand what was wrong with him.</p>
<p>	Stanley never cared much about his appearance. When you’re eight years old, you’re much too occupied with what’s for dinner and what cartoon is playing next to worry about your weight. And he didn’t, for a long time. But that night, when his father painted all of his hate and fear and sadness onto his son in the form of bruises for the very first time, and Stan cried until he couldn’t cry anymore, was the very first time Stan had ever skipped dinner.</p>
<p>	And if he could go back, force his child self to face his father and go to the kitchen and eat, <i>god</i>, he’d do it in a heartbeat. Because maybe if he did, he never would have stopped eating. Maybe he wouldn’t find himself on the bathroom floor for the third time this week, flushing his meal down the toilet. </p>
<p>	He doesn’t like to eat in the first place, but he was just so <i>hungry</i>. It’s a human instinct. Hunger was never meant to be ignored. So when you ignore it, your body sends more, harsher signs to get you to eat. Like the hunger pains and the cramps he’s oh-too familiar with. The growling of his stomach that has grown to be a comfort, that sings him to sleep like a lullaby.</p>
<p>	But Stanley Barber isn’t a superhero. And he gives in sometimes. And he can’t live with himself when he does.</p>
<p>	So he purges the food from his body, as much as he can get up before his throat stings and his head swims and he knows he hasn’t gotten it all up but he can’t do it anymore because he already knows nothing more will come out because he’s been exercising his gag reflex for seven years and it’s broken and weak and his throat is red and raw and his eyes seem to be permanently red, but he’s a smoker so nobody seems to catch on.</p>
<p>	The weed helps numb the pain, too.</p>
<p>	And yeah, nobody ever did seem to catch on. His father wasn’t home nearly enough to, and when he found he could break and bruise a rib with a single punch it only seemed to be an added bonus. He never did have any friends, anyway. </p>
<p>	The councilors probably would notice if he didn’t avoid them like the plague, after that one incident where his seventh grade math teacher noticed a bruise blossoming at his collarbone and informed CPS. </p>
<p>	He was good at hiding. He was good at keeping his pain in check. Talented, even.</p>
<p>	That was, of course, until Sydney Novak.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. diner stuff + post sex tears</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>stan gets invited to a diner! he also fucks syd and then cries</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“-and that is how jellyfish will take over the world.”</p>
<p>	Sydney sighed. “Okay, fine. I give up. You’re right, jellyfish are superior.”</p>
<p>	“Good! I have enlightened yet another person,” Stan said with a smile. They were in chem lab, and as per usual, Stan and Syd were partners. </p>
<p>	“Do you wanna go to the diner with me and Dina after school?” Syd emptied her test tube. “She’s taking Brad and I don’t wanna third wheel again.”</p>
<p>	Stan never got invited to places.</p>
<p>	He never got invited to diners.</p>
<p>	Nope, he wasn’t used to this.</p>
<p>	But what was he gonna say? <i>No, sorry Syd, I have plans</i>. Every person on the planet knows damn well Stanley Barber does not have plans. </p>
<p>	“Uh yeah, sure.” </p>
<p>	Syd smiled, which almost made up for it entirely. “Great, I’ll see you there.”</p>
<p>	<i>Fuck.</i></p>
<p>____________________________</p>
<p>	Stanley got his bearings outside of the diner. He saw Dina and Brad and an uncomfortable Syd through the window, but anxiety still settled in his stomach where food was supposed to be. He hadn’t consumed anything in 36 hours, and he couldn’t count on his self control. He didn’t trust himself. </p>
<p>	God, Stan. It’s not that hard. Just say you’re not hungry, and get over it.</p>
<p>	Before he could stop himself, he opened the door and stepped inside.</p>
<p>	The smell of french-fry grease wafted through the air as Stanley made his way to the booth.</p>
<p>	“Fashionably late.” Sydney remarked, moving over so Stan could seat himself next to her. He smiled and waved, and engaged in quick mindless conversation about the football team.</p>
<p>	Sydney jabbed a menu at Stan. “What’re you getting?”</p>
<p>	Stan shook his head. “I’m not hungry.”</p>
<p>	Syd frowned. “You sure?”</p>
<p>	He nodded, and it was easy to fall back into the conversation. It didn’t take long for Syd to perk up again, and all was forgotten.</p>
<p>____________________________</p>
<p> </p>
<p>	Stan didn’t eat for four more days.</p>
<p>	He had just had sex with Syd, she’d left, and he was pacing around his room. He was exhausted, he hadn’t known how much sex wears you out, but he was hungry. <i>God</i>, he was hungry.</p>
<p>	No. No. He couldn’t eat. Syd had just seen him naked, which was repulsive, and if he ever wanted to please her he’d have to lose weight.</p>
<p>	But <i>fuck</i>, he was starving. He couldn’t keep food out of his mind. He knew he was going to give in, but he was trying so hard not to. He was on the verge of breaking down. His breath was coming in short gasps, and anxiety filled his lungs. </p>
<p>	<i>No, Stan. You’re stronger than this. Don’t do it. Don’t do it.</i></p>
<p>
  <i>	God, I’m so hungry. Food wouldn’t hurt me. It’s food. It’s good.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>	No, it will bloat you and clog your veins and arteries and expand until you resemble a marshmallow. Food is the enemy. Food is the enemy.</i>
</p>
<p>	He was crying at this point. Tears were streaming down his face, he couldn’t stop them.</p>
<p>	<i>But I can purge. </i></p>
<p>
  <i>	You can never get it all up. Food is the enemy.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>	Sydney eats and she’s beautiful.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>	You’re not beautiful, Stan. You need to starve to be accepted. Food is the enemy.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>	Food is the enemy.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>	Food is the enemy.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>	Food is the enemy.</i>
</p>
<p>	He sank down onto his knees against the wall and cried. He cried until he couldn’t cry anymore, until it took too much energy out of him to cry, energy he didn’t have, and he fell asleep, right on that floor.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>LMAO idk what that was its currently 8:20 am and i have not slept at all. this is betad but im also a little not ok rn so if theres mistakes fuck it im not an author im a 13 year old girl with daddy issues ok im sorry bye</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. stan, honey, you need therapy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>syd pov where syd notices somethings wrong but she sucks at confrontation and everything goes to shit</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i tried to make this as in character as possible but in the show syd literally could give less of a crap about stan's problems so please be kind about it. syd has a very interesting character but her character is also an asshole and im sad and need seretonin so im sorry if shes nice to stan sometimes. except shes kind of not in this chapter so idk why i wrote that</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Syd couldn’t keep herself from staring at Stan.</p>
<p>	He looked exhausted, as if it were taking a war effort to keep his head upright on his desk.</p>
<p>	Did she do something wrong? They’d had sex two days previous, but yesterday Stan was happy. Albeit tired, he was happy.</p>
<p>	It suddenly struck Syd that he always seems to be tired. She hadn’t noticed before, but he never moved with much energy. That’s the way he was. But the purple smudges under his eyes seemed more prominent today, and his curls seemed more limp. And he was pale. Really pale.</p>
<p>	He didn’t look tired, he looked sick. </p>
<p>	When the bell rang, she made her way to him to ask what’s wrong.</p>
<p>	“Hey, Stan.”</p>
<p>	Stan took a blunt from his pocket and lit it. Right in the middle of the goddamn hallway. If she needed a reminder that Stanley was still Stanley, there it was.</p>
<p>	But she was still kind of worried.</p>
<p>	“What’s up, Syd?” </p>
<p>	“Are you okay? You look tired.”</p>
<p>	“I’m fine, just didn’t get much sleep last night.”</p>
<p>	Yes. He didn’t get much sleep. He’s tired. Not your problem. You might have superpowers, and you’re concerned about Stan being tired. Bullshit.</p>
<p>	“Yep, that’ll do it to you.” She chuckled awkwardly as they made their way to lunch. Sydney engaged him in a passionate debate on D.C. versus Marvel while she ate.</p>
<p>	She ate, and he didn’t.</p>
<p>	That night at the diner. <i>“I’m not hungry.”</i> The way Stan eyed their food sadly, but looked up as soon as someone talked to him.</p>
<p>	Stan never ate lunch. And she never said anything about it.</p>
<p>	Come to think of it, she had never seen him eat. Ever.</p>
<p>	<i>Fuck, Syd. You have worse things to worry about.</i></p>
<p>____________________________</p>
<p> </p>
<p>	Syd stopped by the bowling alley that same afternoon. She’d completely forgotten about lunch, she just needed his car to get groceries. After she fucked up the first time.</p>
<p>	She pushed open the doors of the building, trying to ignore the shitty music and musty <i>everything</i>, eyeing the room for Stan. But he wasn’t there.</p>
<p>	This was his shift. She knew it was his shift. <i>So why wasn’t he here?</i></p>
<p>	“Hey, you’re Stan’s friend aren’t you?” Syd looked up to a familiar face behind the counter. She recognized her as Stan’s boss.</p>
<p>	“Uh, yeah. Where is he?”</p>
<p>	“Poor kid collapsed while working the counter. I sent him home. He’s overworking himself, I keep telling him-”</p>
<p>	“He collapsed?” Syd could feel her pulse pounding in her ears.</p>
<p>	“Yeah. Fainted, right at the register.”</p>
<p>	<i>Shit. </i></p>
<p>	She made her way back to Stan’s house, trying to remember to breathe. Trying to understand. She had no idea why he wasn’t eating, why he’d starve himself. </p>
<p>	Why he had an eating disorder.</p>
<p>	When someone you know has an eating disorder, you don’t notice. Until you get the hint. Either they confess, or slip up, or faint. And once you know, one you <i>think</i>, it becomes blatantly obvious.</p>
<p>	All the signs. Stan not eating at the diner. Stan never having energy. Stan’s baggy clothes and sad eyes that you could only catch when he thought you weren’t looking. Syd’s heart sank. She needed to talk to him.</p>
<p>	She rang the doorbell anxiously.</p>
<p>            He opened it.</p>
<p>            Stan looked tired, but when didn’t he? His hair was ruffled and his clothes rumpled like he had just woken up from a nap. “What’s up, Syd?”</p>
<p>            Syd stared at him. <i>Shit. How do you confront someone with an eating disorder? What do you even say? “Why are you starving yourself?” What is Stan supposed to say to that? What am I supposed to say to that?</i></p>
<p>            “Uh, you wanna come in?” She snapped back to reality. Stan was staring at her. <i>Shit</i>, she zoned out.</p>
<p>	“Yeah, i guess” Stan moved to the side to allow her room to enter. She moved into the living room, crossing her arms.</p>
<p>	“What’s up?” He repeated as they walked down the stairs into Stan’s room, and took seats on the couch.</p>
<p>	“Honestly, Stan? I don’t know. I went to the bowling alley to look for you, and the woman at the counter said you passed out, and it all sort of started to make sense, and-”</p>
<p>	“Why were you looking for me?”</p>
<p>	“It doesn’t matter, Stan, why don’t you eat?” </p>
<p>	Stan looked at her, and she could spot the surprise and fear in his eyes, but she had to pick through the exhaustion that clouded everything.</p>
<p>	“I just-”</p>
<p>	“Just what?” Her temper was bubbling to the surface. “Tell me, because I really don’t know why anyone in their right mind would starve themselves.” She was shaking now, and there were tears in her eyes, and she told herself they were angry tears, but they weren’t. She knew they weren’t.</p>
<p>             “Please, Syd, calm down.” Stan said. He was quiet, despite the tense air. </p>
<p>             “No!” She yelled.<i> No</i>, she could not be quiet. Because she cared about Stan a lot. And Stan was killing himself, and she couldn’t lose him. She couldn’t, not after her dad. </p>
<p>             The thought of her dad sent a picture frame on Stan’s wall plummeting to the floor. Stan himself was silent, staring at her with fear and anxiousness that was never present when she’d used her powers in front of him before. She didn’t know what was different now, except maybe she was confronting him about an eating disorder,<i> fuck, it’s going to take a long time to get used to the idea Stan has an eating disorder</i>, and she wasn’t being supportive at all. In fact, she was sending Stan’s records onto the floor one by one. She needed to leave. Now.</p>
<p>             And she did. She got up and hightailed it the fuck out of there, and ran all the way home. There she would hide under here covers for the rest of the day and yell at anyone who would try and come in, and just think.</p>
<p>              Think about anything other than Stanley Barber.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>why do i always post at such odd hours!! its 4:38 am. ok now im going to apologize for not updating in a while because i only write when im in inspiration mode and thats usually very late at night when i end up sleeping 5 min later. enjoy this chapter becuz god knows when the next one is coming</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. awkward phone conversations</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>syd is actually nice for once and they’re really just awkward teens who want each other to live</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>idk when i last posted sorry but also fuck being sorry enjoy this chapter idk when the next one is coming</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>stanley had no fucking idea how to react to that. </p>
<p>    syd came into his house, screamed at him for not eating, trashed his room <i>with her mind</i>, and then left. and just stopped talking to him at all.</p>
<p>    he wasn’t upset. he was scared, really. he’d grown up with this disorder, it was a part of him through his most vital developmental years. he didn’t know who he was without it. he was so fucking terrified of having to let go of a piece of him, as much pain as it has caused him.</p>
<p>    but a part of him was happy. an area within him that was normally so cold and empty, was warmed. because syd cared. she cared that he was starving himself, she cared that he was suffering. she cared that she might lose him.</p>
<p>    nobody’s ever cared about stanley barber.</p>
<p>    he didn’t even know where to begin explaining. he couldn’t tell her his whole life story. she would never want to hear it. but he had to explain, he didn’t have a choice. he cared about syd too. he couldn’t lose her either. </p>
<p>            he called her.</p>
<p>            each ring of the phone was like a punch to the face, because <i>yeah, stan, syd doesn’t wanna talk to you anymore. you fucked it up with her. she’s never gonna talk to you again, and it’s all your fault, because you’re so fucked up, so goddamn fucked up that you scared her away, and-</i>“</p>
<p>            “stan?”</p>
<p>            “syd? oh god, syd. i’m sorry about that night, i-“</p>
<p>            “shit, uh, no, you didn’t do anything. i fucked up. i’m sorry.”</p>
<p>            “what?”</p>
<p>            “i was insensitive, and upset, and it all just got out of hand. but we need to talk about what you’re doing to yourself.”</p>
<p>            stan nodded, until he remembered that he was talking on the phone, and he blurted out an awkward “yeah, yeah, okay.” </p>
<p>             “meet me at the diner? oh fuck, probably not a good place to take you. uh, my house? liam has this birthday party to go to tomorrow night and my mom’s working late.”</p>
<p>             “yeah, your house. tomorrow. deal.”</p>
<p>             “deal,” syd replied, satisfied, and hung up. stan sat there, phone in hand, for a while. he tried to map out what he was going to say, but nothing seemed right. there was no comfortable way to address this. he didn’t want to talk about his parents, because sydney would either pity him or look at him like he was her porcupine or hedgehog or whatever the fuck it was after taking a bright blue shit. he wouldnt talk about that, he would just talk about his food problems. and how it affected him.</p>
<p>                 sitting there, thinking about it, made stan realize he never really <i>did</i> think about it. he had thought about his self loathing and how shitty his brain was for telling him it was okay to eat some chicken nuggets and going absolutely batshit after feeling them in his stomach, but in his eight years of this bullshit he never thought about how he had an <i>eating disorder</i>. he knew what they were, he’d been in health class. but even in health class he never acknowledged he had one, he never made the association. subconsciously he knew, and when syd asked him he wasn’t overcome with shock, because yeah, obviously he had an eating disorder, but he never had a solid conversation with himself. in health class he learned about <i>pro ana</i> shit, like websites and stuff that gave tips on how to make yourself puke and pictures of really skinny girls to encourage yourself to starve, but he never went on those sites. he just sort of didn’t eat. it was weird, really fucking weird, but his best friend had superpowers, <i>so fuck weird i guess.</i></p>
<p>             he had to come to terms with it himself before he could talk to syd, and he had, with a sad sort of seriousness. and a little humor at how pathetic it was, and how fucking embarrassed he would be tomorrow. but fuck it all. syd had superpowers. how fucked up could he be in comparison?</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>please let me know your opinions, i really have no idea what the fuck im doing.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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